


bury me six feet deep

by gochu_gochu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21345742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gochu_gochu/pseuds/gochu_gochu
Summary: samwena fantasies warm the angst in my heart
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. salvation

It'd been six days. 

Sam wondered if this always had to be the fate of all those he loved.

“I know we've gotten quite fond of each other–”, she said, with those teary eyes and shaky hands. 

It'd been six days since he had to let Rowena go. 

“–but will you let the world die, your brother die, just so I could live?” Those were her last words, before she swallowed all of hell, in her thin, frail, body.

He longed to touch her, kiss her, run his fingers through her flame-red hair, lay his head gently in her lap.

But there she was, in the depths of hell, burning in hell's eternal inferno, her belly open and exposed, skin blistering and peeling as she waited, to peacefully disintegrate into nothing.

_Or so he thought._

Dean was silent. He was going through something of his own too. Sam didn't have the energy to talk to him. Sam surrounded himself with bottles of cheap brandy and buried himself in tear-stained bedding and the same clothes he wore three days ago. Yes, Dean was broken, Sam had problems to deal with too. 

As he lay in his bed, he thought about something. He got down to the edge of his bed and knelt down to pray. He didn't believe in prayer anymore, but he had faith in the course of action he was about to take. 

He cleared his throat, and began, “Lucifer, I don't know if you can hear this–”, he paused, reevaluated, and began again, “I need you to help me.”

“You said we had a special connection. I need you right now. You can have my body. I'm done being in control.”

In the Empty, surrounded by nothingness, Lucifer tossed and turned in his sleep. He opened his eyes glowing red, and whispered, “Now _that's_ an offer I can't refuse,” and let out a truly villainous cackle.

-

In hell, there was Rowena, alone, with billions of corrupted souls trying to break out of her. All the souls that once resided in hell, were inside her, writhing and struggling to come up for air. Rowena took a deep breath and winced. It felt like someone was trying to push a bowling ball up her windpipe. “You're all being very naughty, my children. Fortunately, I've got a wee spell to fix this– situation.”

She collected a fistful of lava and ash from the floor on which she was sitting, and shoved it down her throat. Then, carefully extracting the knife still embedded in her belly, she carved some sigils on her chest and mouthed an incantation. An eerie white light glowed from her stab wound and as she kept chanting, a bright violet light burst from sigil on her chest. Slowly, the two masses of light fused and let out an explosion, causing a force field to erupt from her body. The souls inside of her stopped moving. “A soul meld. That'd ought to do it.” she mumbled, smug and satisfied. “Now, now, I've got a celestial realm to run.”

-

“On one condition”, Sam continued, “take me to hell.”

Sam waited for response. Anything that could count as evidence that Lucifer could hear him. Following this was an uncanny silence. Dissapointed, Sam promptly went off to sleep. 

“Hey Samantha, miss me?” Lucifer's voice reverberated in Sam's head.

“Are you here to give me what I want?”, Sam stuttered.

“How could I resist not occupying you, the Maserati of vessels, especially if it's being handed to me on a platter?”

“You have to keep your promise.”

“What if I don't?”

“Then I'd have to send you to the pit you crawled out of.”

-

Rowena was strutting through the narrow passageways and corridors in hell when she heard a distant crash along with a silhouette of a rather curious -looking creature at the end of the hallway which vanished in an instant. “Reveal yourself.” she commanded. “I have consumed all of the souls in hell, including demons. You shouldn't even exist. Who are you?”

A few moments of dead silence later, a familiar face peered through the distance. The entity attempted to flee, when Rowena, with the speed and intensity of a lightning bolt, caught hold of the entity with a simple binding spell she created herself.

Rowena twisted her eyebrows and tilted her head until she finally recognized who it was. “It's you, isn't it?” she asked it. “Belphegor.” 

Belphegor chuckled. “Guilty as charged–”, he said. “–though I am a little unrecognizable since your angel buddy Kentucky-fried my ass.”

“So you're in charge of the place now?” Belphegor asked. 

“Well, do you see anyone else here?” Rowena replied.

“Uh, since I _don't_ see anyone else here, it would be more productive if I served under you. Y'know, I can be useful.”

“No thanks.” Rowena said. “And please, fix yourself up.”

Rowena then snapped her fingers which instantly transported Belphegor to a cell in the dungeons.

-

The next morning, Dean woke up to the sound of clattering pots and pans. Armed with his trusty Colt M1911A1, Dean tread along lightly, without making a sound, to the source of the racket that seemed to be coming from the cellar, the same cellar where the Winchesters kept their rare and expensive potion ingredients.

The door of the cellar was left ajar and Dean peeked through the crack in the door to try to identify this mysterious, loud intruder. He threw open the door, breathed a sigh of relief and put his gun down. It was just Sam. He was being paranoid for no reason.

“You're up early.” Dean remarked.

“Uh, yeah, isn't this the time that I normally wake up?” Sam snarked.

“This _was_ the time you used to wake up. Before– everything happened.”

“Well, I'm better now. You can leave and let me do what I was doing.”

“Hmph,” Dean shrugged. “Anyways– Pancakes or waffles?”

-

“Taaake ooooon meeeee, take meeeee ooooonn, I'll be gooone–”

“For goodness' sake, will you shut up?”, Rowena yelled at the top of her lungs. “I'm very busy!”

“Doing what?!” Belphegor snarled. “There's no one here!”

“I'm trying to open a portal back to Earth!” Rowena blurted. Oops. _She didn't mean to say that._

A sly grin formed on Belphegor's face. “You could've just _asked_ me.” he said. 

“You go to hell, ye foul demon.”

“Baby, I'm already here.” said Belphegor with a smirk.

-

“Uh, Jody? Did you get any hits from that APB I made you put out?” Dean asked, his voice trembling.

“Not yet, but I'm sure you'll find him. It isn't like him to go missing like that.” Jody reassured. “I've asked the cops in the area to keep an eye out. Now all we can do is wait.”

Dean slammed his phone down and buried his face in his hands. How could he have let Sam just– disappear? Especially after the whole Rowena ordeal? Even though he knew Sam's head wasn't in the right place? Dean felt so damn irresponsible.

Dean's eyes started turning moist. He pulled his hair and his face reddened. He was mad. Really mad. 

-

“Wait a minute, I feel something.” Belphegor said. “A sudden surge in power.”

“You have something for me?” Rowena's voice echoed through the walls.

“No, why?”

“Don't sell me a dog, Belphegor. I know exactly what you're trying to do.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You're trying to overthrow me. Let me know if you succeed.”

“Just wait, you'll know.”

-

“Uh, Dean?”

“Sam? Sam, where are you?” asked Dean, tightly clutching his phone to his ear. “I've been looking for you.”

“I don't know where I am.” said Sam, panicking. “can you track my cell and come pick me up?”

“I'm on my way. Just hold on or try to get to a nearest police station.”

Dean grabbed his keys to his car and bolted out the door of the bunker and rushed to the location shown on his cellphone tracker. There was Sam standing under the foliage of the canopy, in a forest, damn near inaccessible from the nearest highway. It took Dean a long, long time to find him. 

“Where the hell have you been?”, said Dean holding him in a tight embrace. 

“I–”, Sam broke off. “I don't remember.”

“Never mind, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Let's get you home.”


	2. dead man walking

“Sammy, pack up! We're going to Colorado!” Dean yelled at the top of his lungs at four in the morning.

“So, what's up?” asked Sam, sleepily. He wriggled in his bed for a while, then got out of his bed messy haired. 

“Demonic omens. Considering that we just chucked all of hell, well, back in hell, I think we've got a case on our hands.” Dean told Sam as he walked in the table room of the bunker. “You look like you've had a rough night, you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Sam replied, “just a couple of the usual nightmares.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Puzzled, Dean packed his usual hunting duffel with the usuals, wondering what's been going on with his brother lately. Sam seemed aloof, lost and visibly disturbed with whatever was going on with him. Maybe this was bigger than Rowena. “It'll be fine,” Dean repeated to himself over and over again. “We'll figure it out. We always do.”

Dean rolled out of the bunker garage in Baby, with Sam riding shotgun. 

“So, tell me more about the case.” Sam faintly mouthing words in a barely comprehensible manner.

“The usual demonic omens– cattle mutilations, freak lightning storms, the works.” Dean explained.

“It's okay, we've worked on less, where we headed?” Sam asked. 

“Telluride, Colorado.”

As Baby rumbled on Route 50, Sam was sleeping a sound sleep. He slightly resembled a baby, albeit a 6'4" one, all curled up and folded, using his jacket as a makeshift blanket. Dean looked at him from the corner of his eye, smiled, and hit the play button on his cassette player. He turned the volume low enough so as to not wake Sam up. Zeppelin's ‘Down by the Seaside’ was playing and Dean was bobbing his head to the slow, blues-y beat. Zeppelin's music reminded him of Cas. He remembered the mix tape that he gave to Cas as a reminder of their friendship. Cas left him days ago, but reminders of him floated around everywhere, and Dean noticed them. His heart sank everytime.

He took a deep breath and began, “Castiel, I hope you can hear this–”

-

“Gotta love the misty mountain air,” Belphegor said, with a self-satisfied smug. “Colorado, here I come!” 

Belphegor immaterialized in a cloud of black smoke and swiftly drifted along an air current in the direction of the fiercely blazing sun.

-

Rowena was scrambling around in hell, scrounging for ingredients for the ultimate spell, which uses ingredients that are hard to gather and which is intricate in execution. Rowena astral projected herself out of hell and looked for where she could find the ingredients she needed for the spell. Some ingredients were easy– a crow's heart, a manatee skull, mustard seeds, and so on. Some ingredients were a little difficult to obtain– blood from a Knight of hell, chopped up tongue of a dodo, angel grace, etcetera. She really wished she had a pet angel of her own too. 

In all of this frenzy, she forgot to check up on the reincarnation of evil itself, her dearest Belphy. She shuffled noiselessly to hell's dungeons, to ask of the demon a favour. The dungeons were eerily quiet. It reeked of urine and decomposing organic matter. The dungeons were dark and enclosed thick fog which made visibility extremely poor. For some unknown reason, Rowena's gut was twisting. 

She approached Belphegor's cell, but stopped in her tracks out of sheer surprise. 

Belphegor's cell was empty. 

“Bollocks!” exclaimed Rowena. She knew that her carelessness would cause many, many complications in the future. Belphegor was in the wind. 

-

Back in Colorado, Belphegor was rejoicing at his successful attempt at having outsmarted the 300-year old witch. 

“Ah, the smell of success–” Belphegor said smugly then twisted his face in a split second. “–and maybe horse excreta. Anyways, I got work to do.”

He made his way to the famous Lone Tree Cemetery, where he was looking for a special artifact, which he knew Rowena was in pursuit of. A vase, containing the apparent ‘Elixir of Life’. A pretty flashy name for a mix of special spices and herbs belonging to the biblical era soaked in holy oil, which granted the drinker indefinite youth. Yuck.

Belphegor knew better than to go around drinking God grease for youth, but he needed it desperately. This was one of the ingredients that Rowena needed for her spell and he had to make sure that she didn't get her hands on it. Rowena, with powers gained from the Book of the Damned, was powerful enough to put down Lucifer, and a small-fry demon like Belphy didn't want to mess with her. It was better if he kept her in his sights. She was like a loose cannon that could wreak havoc when he would least expect it.

-

“Castiel, I hope you can hear this–” Dean mumbled, eyes gleaming in anticipation. “I need your help.”

“Listen, buddy– and I know I've no right to call you that; I need you here. Sam's behaviour is making me worried. Something's been going on with him.” Dean prayed. “Don't do it for me, do it for him.”

_No response._ Dean half-expected that. 

He let out a lone sob. Choking on his tears that were beginning to form, he managed to barely mouth the words,_ “I'm sorry.”_

They'd been driving for six hours straight, and Dean decided to pull the car over to straighten his legs. He pulled over to a gas station, filled Baby's tank up and emptied his own. He then went inside the convenience store to grab a six-pack and some snacks, including his favorite chili-lime beef jerky. The gas station and convenience store was pretty much empty, except for the cashier, but it wasn't unusual.

He walked back to the car, mentally preparing for another six hours of continuous driving, and looked through the windshield hoping to see Sam snoring. Dean stopped. All his goodies slipped from his hands and onto the ground. He was petrified. 

Sam wasn't sitting in the passenger seat. 

“God-fucking-damnit!”, Dean shrieked, terrified.

-

Rowena growled. “Belphegor.”

She was astral projecting herself and came across the artifact that she wanted for the spell. The same artifact that Belphegor wanted to steal from her. As luck would have it, she managed to find him before he could lay his dirty hands on him. 

“Belphegor”, she started communicating telepathically. “Turn back or you'll have to face my wrath.”

Belphegor laughed. “First get out of hell and _then_ talk. Hmm?”

“I'll see to that”, Rowena said. 

She brought her consciousness back in her body and took a deep breath.

“Castiel, I pray to you for I desire your help.” Rowena said. After a brief moment of silence, she heard a voice, booming from every corner of the room. “Rowena.” Castiel spoke. “You're alive?”

“Well, what can I say, dear angel, I'm fortunate.” Rowena replied, snickering.

“What is it that you need?”

“I need you to retrieve something for me. The ius vitae. The elixir of life. It's in the Lone Tree cemetery in Telluride, Colorado.”

“You know I can't do that. It's forbidden for me to hand any human something as powerful as that.”

“Poor dear Cassie, are you still playing by the rules? Plus, I won't be needing it for myself, I need it for a spell.”

“I'm sorry, I can't give it to you.”

“Or would you rather have Belphegor get his hands on it?” 

Castiel sighed. “I'm only doing this because I trust you, Rowena.”

-

Dean called up Jody, gave her his location, and asked her to ask the local cops to keep an eye out. Sam went missing again, and Dean had too little to gain from running behind Sam all the time. After all, he had a case to solve. He was sure that his brother could take care of himself.

He promptly got into the Impala and drove off. As he drove, AC/DC blared on his speakers and he gritted his teeth and his hands were trembling. His palms were sweaty and he found it difficult to hold onto the steering wheel. He drove at a speed that was maybe not completely legal. He didn't stop until he reached Colorado.

He made his way as fast as he could to the police station and changed into his fed threads in a gas station washroom. It was stinky and grimy and disgusting. There was graffiti on the walls that spelled ‘Hail Satan’. Dean chuckled. Ironic. 

“Agent Carter, am here for the– _cattle deaths?_”, he said while flashing his fake FBI badge. 

“Yes, but why is the Federal Government involved in a few animal deaths?” the sheriff inquired.

“Suspected poisoning. I'd like the files on your investigation now, please.”

The sheriff raised his eyebrows seeing Dean's haste regarding the case, but didn't question it twice. 

Dean grabbed the files and went straight to the ‘Blue Bird’ motel where he'd booked his stay. He sat on one of the twin beds, which had weird stains and cigarette burns all over it. The room had a mouldy, yet acidic reek to it that was nonetheless vomit inducing. Dean had spent many a night in crappier motels that this didn't matter to him. He cracked open the case file and began studying it intently. He noticed that the unexplained cattle deaths were occurring in an area with a radius of about two miles. He calculated the exact position of the location of the entity causing the deaths and there it was. 

Lone Tree cemetery.

Armed with his hunting gear, Dean dashed to the Impala and drove to the cemetery as fast as possible. 

-

The cemetery was huge, filled with hundreds of marked and unmarked graves dating from the 18th century. The cemetery itself was surrounded with greenery, bushes and short, mountain trees. The high mountains in the background made the cemetery look like somewhere out of a dream.

Meanwhile, Belphegor was overturning every grave in search for the ius vitae.

“Ah, goddammit.” he cursed. “How much longer is this going to take?”

The sun was setting and the sky was pink. The mountains surrounding the town appeared to be standing tall and mighty, tinged with shades of grey and blue, with speckles of freshly dusted snow on top. It was almost nightfall. Belphegor, oblivious his surroundings, didn't notice that he'd been found. There was Cas, standing still and ominous as ever, watching Belphegor dig up the cemetery.

“Belphegor.” Cas growled. “Stop.”

Belphegor turned, raised his eyebrows and grinned, and spoke. “Hey dad!” he cackled. “Whatcha doin' here?” 

“I need what you want.” Cas replied, angel blade gripped tightly in his red-hot fists. 

“Sorry, no can do.” 

Belphegor flicked his wrist and sent the angel hurling across ten feet away and down on the ground with a loud thud. 

“You'll face Rowena's wrath.” Cas threatened him. “Her power's greater than the limits of your imagination can extend.”

Then, a figure emerged from the bushes, donned in a crisp white suit, hair slicked back and with a graceful swan-like gait. “Says who?” the figure spoke. 

Cas stood immobilized. It was him. He was back from The Empty, and occupying the body of the one who brought him back. _It was Lucifer, wearing the body of Sam Winchester._

“Sam?!” a deep, yet loud voice echoed through the trees. A second later, a sweaty, red, jean jacket clad man rushed to the scene from behind some vegetation. “Cas?” he noticed him, tears already welling in his eyes.

“Guess again–,” Lucifer said. “_–Dean Winchester_.”

It dawned on him. Sam inexplicably waking up and making a racket at untimely hours, him disappearing for no apparent reason for days at a time, and turning up in desolate places was happening for a reason. It was just good ol' Lucy taking over and taking Sam out for a ride. 

“Why are you here? Who brought you back?” Dean fired questions at him frantically.

“Ask this guy,” Lucifer said, pointing to his own face. “It was all him.” He chuckled. 

“I'll make sure you die.” said Cas, his baritone voice echoing through the trees. “Rowena'll kill you.”

“Till then, tell her I'm with him,” said Belphegor, gesturing to Lucifer, covered in dirt, clutching a heavy, ceramic vase that had a viscous liquid sloshing inside of it. “Sayonara peeps, see you, never!”

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and Dean instantly doubled down in pain. Cas ran towards him as fast as he could. Lucifer had set Dean's insides on fire. Dean was on the ground, writhing in pain, struggling to breathe. Belphegor rushed to Lucifer's side and both of them turned around for one last time before disappearing in the shrubbery _with the ius vitae_.

Dean had stopped moving. He lay there, motionless with his head gently placed in Cas' lap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a lot of time, I'm finding it difficult trying to balance academics and writing at the same time :,)


End file.
